


Starry-Eyed & Exasperated

by KipRussel



Category: Control (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, Darling is briefly mentioned, Emily-centric, Gen, Jesse's just vibin, Polaris is also there for like a singular line, Post-Canon, blatant disregard for however pneumatic mail systems might actually work, both girls understand what it feels like to feel like an outsider, giving Emily a much needed vent session because I love her so much, thank u beta reading friends i LOVE u
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:20:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28517781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KipRussel/pseuds/KipRussel
Summary: Jesse can hear someone muttering to themselves as she gets closer and closer to the sound room. Not unusual— from employees to Hiss agents, there’s nearly always something lurking around a corner in the House— what’s unusual is the fact that she recognizes the voice of Emily Pope.And it sounds like she’s… arguing? With someone?Emily is tired of being mislabelled and misunderstood. Jesse lends an ear.
Relationships: Jesse Faden & Emily Pope
Comments: 12
Kudos: 44





	Starry-Eyed & Exasperated

Jesse stretches as she wanders aimlessly down the sequestered Research hallway, enjoying her off-hours in one of the more quiet corners of the House. Getting her mind off work was nigh-impossible, considering the lockdown meant she could only stay inside. She was basically always working, anyway, and she really didn’t mind. It’s tough work, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t love the challenges being in the FBC brings. And the coworkers. And the friends. Really, it feels like the place she’d always been looking for, the place she belongs.

Regardless, some peace and quiet where she can just relax is always something she feels thankful for. Her new favorite haunts are the audio rooms in the twisting hallways of Research— tucked away and insulated from sound. The perfect combination.

Only, this time, she can hear someone muttering to themselves as she gets closer and closer to the sound room. Not unusual— from employees to Hiss agents, there’s nearly always something lurking around a corner in the House— what’s unusual is the fact that she recognizes the voice of Emily Pope.

And it sounds like she’s… arguing? With someone?

_What? Is she okay?_

The curious part of Jesse wins out before she can think otherwise, and she slows her pace, straining to hear.

“...question _my role_ without even talking to _me_ directly," Emily mutters. "Just gossiping, and they… oh. It’s broken.”

Jesse peers around the yellow-painted corner of the hall, greeted by the sight of Emily standing in front of one of the pneumatic tube systems, arms crossed, mail canister wedged in her elbow. No one else in sight. Emily taps her foot anxiously on the ground.

“They never talk to me. It’s ridiculous,” she sets the mail tube on the desk, bending down to check underneath it, fiddling with the tubes. “A pressure issue?” She stands, stepping back to trace her hands over the tubes, following them to their source.

“Emily?” Jesse asks, and she jumps, laughing when she turns to see her.

“Jesse! Hey! Sorry, you startled me. It’s usually so empty back here. I come back here to do paperwork sometimes when I need some quiet.”

“Didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” Jesse smiles. “And same. I was headed here just to kick back. But I heard you uh… talking?” Jesse says awkwardly, regretting her sentence already. _Should’ve just left it be._

“Sorry, I… I’m just talking to myself. I’m having kind of a rough day. Internally. With some coworkers. And now I can’t get this paperwork to them.”

“It’s fine, Emily, really. Are you… trying to fix the pneumatic system?” Jesse asks, quirking her head to the side. “Do you want me to call maintenance or something? Or help out? I am Ahti’s assistant, so…”

“Some help would be wonderful, actually.” Emily smiles. “I’ve fixed an issue like this before, it’s just a jam— or, really the pressure’s been adjusted because of a… a clog of mail tubes, basically. It just takes adjusting the pressure, but I can’t turn the release valve _and_ handle the pneumatics themselves. Could I ask you to help with that?”

“Point me where you need me to go,” she answers, holding her hands out.

“Could you hold the door shut here while I turn the valve? Without a proper seal it won’t activate, and I think it’s wedging open a bit. It should be fine after we fix it.”

“You got it,” she says, moving over to the row of tubes and leaning on the small hinged door until it clicks. Emily walks along the wall, following the rows of tubes over to a set of valves embedded in them, each in a staggered pattern. She tugs gently on each until finding the apparent offender, which refuses to move. Emily plants her feet, giving it a harder push.

Jesse is still thinking about what she overheard before she accidentally startled her.

 _Is it overstepping? Should I ask?_ she thinks.

“It… didn’t sound like you were talking about mail tubes, earlier,” she says.

_Too late._

Emily cranks down on the valve one more time, then sighs and puts her hands on her hips, like she might scold it into working.

“No, I… I wasn’t. I just. I don’t want to gossip, and I’m not trying to, I’m just really tired of how some people… react to me, I guess. Which. I…” she lets her arms drop to her sides, looking apologetically at Jesse. “This is probably for HR, isn’t it? You don’t want to hear me rant.”

“I don’t mind. Feel free,” Jesse shrugs, just leaning against the tubes.

“Oh,” Emily blinks in surprise. “Thanks. I… it’s just been a long day.” 

“Fire away. This is a friend to friend conversation, not a coworker one.” Jesse tries to smile reassuringly. Emily nods slowly, taking a deep breath.

“I… I know I’m not always a good… I think a quarterly report once said ‘social fit’ around here,” she adjusts her grip, moving to the other side of the valve to get a better angle on it. “I don’t know. It’s hard to explain, I guess. I’m just… I’m frustrated with the fact that people assume I’m… I’m… _naive_ because I’m so involved in my work and chatty.”

Jesse nods, even though Emily can’t see her, too preoccupied with trying to get the valve to budge. She remembers some of the files she picked up in the Director’s office— all in praise of Emily, but citing how her coworkers sometimes complained about her.

Jesse never really understood that. Emily is friendly, kind, passionate— people really find her ‘unsociable’? She twists her face up in frustration.

“I just… people don’t want to talk about work, so they ask what I’m interested in, but that _is_ what I’m interested in. So I just listen to them instead, and I’m happy to! I learn a lot and enjoy it! But apparently people take that as some kind of… I don’t know. I just get treated oddly for it. I always have. I thought maybe working for the Bureau would mean… finding… finding my ‘people’. And don’t get me wrong!” she adds, looking up suddenly, repositioning her grip again. “I absolutely love it here. And I like my coworkers. I just. It feels like they don’t like me. It feels like everyone’s in on a joke nobody told me about. Hey, are the other tubes’ doors shut?”

“Oh, uh.” The sudden change in topic catches Jesse off guard, and she has to shake herself out of her thoughts. She reaches over and presses down on each one. “Yeah, all latched. I still have to hold this one though.”

“Okay, so it is just the valve. Time for some elbow grease.” Emily plants her feet again and cranks on it, leaning her weight into it. “I don’t know. It’s like. People have grudges on me for being recruited, but people also treat me like… like a child, sometimes. Or just like, I’m ‘different’, or, or ‘novel’, or something. Like. _Ugh_ , I really don’t need to get started on everything Darling kept from me, I don’t want to speak ill of him. But— oh, it’s starting to budge. Make sure that door stays shut.”

Jesse feels the door push back against her with the pressure change, and lays her elbows on it to keep it sealed.

“But just… _why?_ Why did he handpick me, make me his _assistant,_ if he was going to hide so much? Did he regret his choice?” Emily scowls, and Jesse can’t tell how much of it is her trying to turn the valve, and how much is the rant. “Was he trying to protect me? Again, the… the _naive_ treatment. Or was he trying to protect himself somehow? But I can’t even talk about that, because people misconstrue my meaning. They think I’m vindictive, or that I hated Darling, like I just wanted his job or something, which I just, it _cannot_ be further from the fact,” she laughs in disbelief.

Jesse doesn’t know what to say, or if she even _should_ say anything, but she figures Emily just needs an ear. Probably needed one for a long time. So she nods, listening intently.

“I’m just sick of being infantilized. I’m sick of being misunderstood. I’m just so… so _sick_ of it!” She cranks hard on the valve, and it turns a quarter of the way, and she turns with it, punctuating her sentence as her feet hit the ground again. “Everyone wants me to play by rules I don’t know or understand, but instead of taking the time to try and clue me in on what those rules even are, or, I don’t know, try and understand _me_ , they make assumptions and judge me based on their pre-made ideas, with no second chances! I have to conform or I have to be an outsider. Hold on, let me put on some gloves.”

The sudden change in topic, and even Emily’s tone, catches Jesse off-guard again. She watches in an almost confused awe as Emily calmly scoops up some nearby work gloves off a lab table, before setting back at the valve. She never expected to see Emily being so… righteously angry. But Jesse understands.

“It’s… _beyond_ unfair, it’s SO selfish, but they make _me_ feel like it’s somehow _my fault_ that I don’t understand, or _my fault_ that I’m invested in what I love and don’t like the same things as them, when they aren’t even willing to give me a chance! I know I can’t control how other people perceive me, and I really don’t care, but when they make it _my_ problem somehow. I just want some nuance! I’m not… I’m not people’s stereotypes of me, I’m not some naive child who’s overly optimistic and all sunshine, and I’m _not_ standoffish or rude. But nobody bothers to see for themselves!”

The tubes behind Jesse start to whine with pressure, and both of them snap to watch as the doors buckle and snap open. Jesse swears under her breath and dives across the desk, pushing them shut again. Emily starts yanking the valve with even more fervor, still talking through it all.

“I lose no matter what I do. Either I’m some, some… some bright-eyed newbie who’s just too sweet and pure who doesn’t understand life, or I’m a stuffy, awful, cold-hearted— well— I— they assume I’m just some heartless—” Emily cranks on the valve hard, and it spins with such a sudden force that it flings her to the ground with a _thud_. She rocks forward into a sitting position, watching the pneumatics with bated breath.

The tubes rattle violently, then pause for an agonizing moment. Emily raps her knuckles against the carpet, anxiously waiting. Then, suddenly, the vacuum returns, and a flurry of mail tubes vanish up into the ceiling.

“There! Got it,” she says distractedly, and Jesse walks over to offer her a hand up. “I knew it was just a valve issue,” she smiles as she gets pulled to her feet, dusting off her slacks.

Jesse is still looking at her with some degree of amazement.

“I… I’m sorry, none of that was very professional,” Emily grimaces. Jesse shrugs.

“Hey, I’m off the clock, and all of that was off the record,” Jesse says. “I just wasn’t expecting... I think you needed that. And I agree with you, by the way. I— I get it, to some degree. When nobody lets you fit in because they push you out. It’s not fair. It sucks. And if you ever need a friend to just like, vent to…” Emily smiles and ducks her head.

“Thanks. For listening. And… thanks for being a friend. Jeez, that’s really cheesy—”

“Hey, I was gonna say the same thing, so.”

Emily laughs, then perks up suddenly, turning to snatch her mail canister off the desk, sending it off into the now-fixed tube.

“Well. Thank you, again, Jesse. Really. And same to you, of course, if you ever need a listening ear—”

“I know where to find you,” Jesse grins.

“Exactly. I’ve got to run back to Executive, the mail fiasco’s already made me a bit late, so I’ll leave you to your time off,” Emily waves, starting to turn down the hall, and Jesse waves back.

“Hey, I give you my full permission for the delay if they ask,” Jesse jokes, calling after her.

“Just write me a late pass. I’m sure the finance and accounting meeting will love it,” Emily shouts back, before vanishing around the corner with a final wave.

Jesse turns to watch the mail canisters whizzing past the clear doors, everything in working order.

“How could anyone ever find her anything but friendly?” Jesse mutters to herself. Polaris answers with a mental, resonant shrug.

Jesse had the same, yet opposite problem, trying to make friends— never quite fitting in, never really ‘getting’ it, never being somewhere long enough— too odd, too guarded. But now, here?

She’s glad she has friends who have her back. And she has their backs too.

**Author's Note:**

> [blows a kiss to Emily Pope] I hope ur coworkers realize how cool u are


End file.
